


Sycamore Tree

by mskatej



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 05:04:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mskatej/pseuds/mskatej
Summary: Every confession has consequences.





	Sycamore Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Set a few months after the end of season 1, Rio and Beth are working together again and business is thriving.

Strange becomes normal when you’re used to it. It wasn’t too long ago this situation would have scared the shit out of Beth. A heavily tattooed man, henchman in tow, strolling into her kitchen? She might well have screamed.

These days it’s par for the course. These days it’s just her life.

Standing around the kitchen island drinking iced tea with Ruby and Annie, talking business, talking _crime_ , and in walks Carlos, nodding at them in greeting, followed by Rio. 

A totally normal Wednesday afternoon.

She makes immediate eye contact with Rio but quickly averts her gaze, tries to find something else in the room — anything, anywhere other than in Rio’s direction — to focus her attention on. But his face is like a goddamn magnet for her eyes, and of course he’s smiling at her. Just a little smile. A private smile. Dancing on his lips, reminding her of unwise decisions and close calls. Of weekend confessions Beth wishes she could take back. 

Sunday night confessions.

Christ.

Of all the men in the world to have a moment with. What was she thinking? Why did she have to say anything? Why tell him? Stupid, so goddamn stupid. There is no way anything like that can ever happen again.

He was sitting in the passenger seat of her car, counting out her share. It was dark out, almost midnight, their rendezvous venue a deserted parking lot at a mall in Canton. 

Beth caught herself watching him, face all focused and serious, whiskers shimmering in the moonlight. When she realized what she was doing a memory slid into her head and a breathless laugh escaped her lips. It made him look up at her, eyes questioning.

Oh God. “Sorry.”

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing, I just.” Don’t tell him. For God’s sake don’t tell him. “I just remembered…” Do not finish that sentence, Beth. Don’t do it. “I had a—” she started to laugh because telling him was the dumbest thing she could possibly do and his bemused expression was only making it harder to stop herself, until she couldn’t hold it in another second, her voice shaking with laughter, “I just remembered I had a dream about you.”

His eyes widened, a smile warming his face. “Is that right?”

“It was nothing, don’t go getting all...” she said, flicking a hand at him to illustrate just how much he shouldn’t let this go to his head. “It just occurred to me, that’s all.” He didn’t reply, instead letting her ramble on like a fool. “I’d actually totally forgotten about it until a second ago.”

“Right, and watching me count out cash for you reminded you of your dream about me?”

“No,” she said, wondering if she should be offended at what was probably some crude reference to prostitution. “I don’t think you were counting any money in my dream.” She shook her head with a frown, pretending to mull it over. “The details are a little hazy. ”

His gaze dipped to her breasts, then travelled slowly back up over her chest, throat, chin, her mouth, into her eyes. “Good dream or bad?”

Good. Very good. No way was she admitting to that. “I guess that would depend on your perspective.”

His smile turned into a grin, soft, gruff voice verging on seductive. “Now I’m really curious.”

She tilted her head and gave him her sweetest smile. “I’ve said all I’m gonna say.”

For a moment he seemed reluctant to move, staring at her like he knew she was only seconds away from admitting just how good her dream had been. “Fair enough.” He handed her a wad of cash and opened the car door, hopped out. Gaze cast downwards, he paused. Then he looked up into her eyes and murmured, “Sleep well,” before closing the door. 

Okay, maybe she hadn’t totally forgotten about the dream. She’d done her best to put it out of her mind, that’s for sure. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t tell anyone about it, least of all Rio, and she really had thought she was being sincere. Of course telling Rio she had a dream about him was absolutely insane. There was nothing to be gained from it. Bury the memory. Don’t let yourself enjoy the memory. Wipe it. Forget it ever happened.

Five minutes. She didn’t last five minutes in Rio’s company before confessing.

She’d felt...compelled. The desire to find out what his reaction would be completely overpowered her common sense. The truth is, if she’s being completely honest with herself, she wanted to flirt with him. 

Beth has always found Rio attractive and interesting but until a week ago she’d never let herself dwell for too long on his sex appeal. She’d chosen to ignore the way her body sometimes responds to him, chose to shut it out of her mind. If only her subconscious hadn’t had other ideas. That goddamn dream has instigated a full blown crush, and the urge to act on all these feelings is growing. But she can’t, of course she can’t. Except maybe she already has? It was pretty clear what they were talking about in the car, even though nothing was actually said. She may as well just have come right out and told him she wanted to have sex with him. Because that’s what telling an attractive man you had a dream about him means. 

Christ.

Did she _proposition_ him? 

Why are they even in her house? She’s only half paying attention to the conversation Annie and Ruby are having with Carlos; he’s telling them something about his daughter — he has a three year old and a crazy girlfriend — because he’s gotten friendly enough with the girls over the past few months he now seeks them out for advice whenever their paths cross, which is fairly often. There must be some other actual work-related reason they’re here, but Beth is struggling to care. Hell, with Rio only a few paces away from her, watching her, she’s struggling to maintain her composure. At least today they have chaperones. 

Is it hot in here? She needs to get out of the kitchen. Away from all of this.

She leaves the door to her bedroom open, hating herself for how much she hopes he’ll follow her in here. It’s not unusual for them to separate themselves from the others to discuss business, they’re the bosses after all. And it’s not unusual for Rio to invade her personal space. It’s downright normal in fact. 

Her breathing is shallow and fast and her is heart racing, which is just ridiculous. She needs to calm down, there is nothing going on, she did nothing wrong, nothing is going to happen, Rio is a colleague, nothing more, and he is not going to follow her into her bedroom; they are going to maintain professional boundaries and keep their thriving business free of drama and conflict. She does not want to sleep with a gangster. She’s fine. It was just a dumb dream. She’ll go back out to the kitchen in one minute and she’ll keep her shit together and things will go back to normal and she’ll never think about it again.

Except that’s when Rio enters the bedroom and shuts the door behind him, walks up to her, right into her personal space, and slips his hands into his pockets. “How you been sleeping, Beth?”

Trying not to smile, Beth holds his gaze. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

He shakes his head, a ‘not a chance’ expression crossing his face. “You ever gonna tell me what that dream was about?”

“Nope.”

His eyes dip to her mouth and he murmurs, “Tease,” in a tone that makes her belly flip. 

“I shouldn’t have told you.”

“Why did you?”

Rio always asks the hard questions.

“I don’t know.” It’s a lie, and his wicked smile and the way he steps closer to her tells her he knows it. She shakes her head at him, tries to say no but she can’t speak. They can’t do this, surely he understands that. He’s capitulating way too fast; she hadn’t anticipated it would be so easy when she opened this can of worms. It hadn’t occurred to her he’d respond like this, so sure of himself. So sure of his interpretation of her behavior. 

Is he going to kiss her?

“What do you want?” His voice is soft, a little gravelly.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, gaze locked into his, her hand twitching with the urge to reach up and touch him. 

“But you want something.”

Shutting her eyes for a second, she searches for some clarity, but she absolutely cannot share anything resembling the truth with the man standing in front of her. “As if that matters,” she says eventually.

He raises a hand and gently plucks at the placket of her shirt, just beneath her bust, as if he might unbutton her. When he’s done fiddling he looks back into her eyes, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip. “Thought it was all about what you wanted.”

God, even when they’re engaging in some ill-advised flirting he finds a way to get his digs in. “Like you can talk.”

He laughs. “Oh you sensitive now?”

“Are you still in my bedroom?”

He holds up his palms in conciliation, grin blinding. “My bad,” he says. “I’ll go. Seemed like you wanted me to follow you is all.”

She doesn’t want him to go. Yes, she hates how perceptive he is but she still has to do whatever it takes to prevent him from walking away. As he goes to turn she plants a firm hand in the center of his chest, fixing him with a look as indignant as she can muster. “And what on earth gave you that impression?”

He stills, facing her squarely, chest swelling against her palm. Breathing out through his nose, lip twitching with amusement, he says, “Oh, you know, just a little something I heard the other night.”

“Oh my God,” she says. “It was just a dream. You really should get over it.”

They both laugh at that. For God’s sake her hand is still on his chest and it’s taking every ounce of willpower she has to stop herself from stroking him. He looks down at her hand, then back up into her eyes. “Mm. You’re making that kinda difficult, darlin’.”

“I am?”

He takes a while to answer. “I know what you want. It’s written all over you.”

“And what’s that?” Why is her breathing so shaky? “What do I want?”

His smile widens, he licks his lips. “Check your dreams.”

She sucks in a fast breath, coughs out a laugh. “That is...very presumptuous.”

“Sorry,” he says, not moving a muscle, smile unapologetic. They could not be standing any closer to each other and Christ almighty she’s still touching his chest. Stop touching him, Beth. Stop giving him ideas. “I got one question about that dream.” 

She lets her hand drop, immediately missing his warmth, and nods. Of course he can ask her a question. She’s dying to hear what his question is, even if she’s doing her best to convey indifference.

Tilting his head, he leans in until his mouth is an inch away from her ear, his breath a warm, intoxicating tickle against her skin. Beth is frozen, unable to focus her eyes, so lightheaded she might topple over any second. And then he murmurs, “Did I make you come?”

So frank and audacious, her body seizes up in response, arousal surging through her as she grabs a fistful of his shirt to stop herself lurching into him. “ _Ohmygod_ ,” she gasps, blinking hard, and he’s got his hands on her waist now, fingers pressing into her flesh, holding her still.

“You okay?” he asks, wrapping an arm around her.

She can barely get the words out. “I can’t believe you asked me that.” 

He pulls her closer, rocking his hips, making her moan, whispering _tell me_ in her ear.

All she can do is tip her head back and lean up to his lips, kiss him to stop him asking all these impossible questions— but he draws back, out of reach; the bastard won’t let her kiss him until he gets an answer. “ _Yes_ ,” and that does it, he closes the distance with a soft laugh, his mouth finally on hers...lips parting...tongue licking her tongue...moving slow and sensual against her as they kiss, a promise for later. 

Oh dear God she wants him. So ravenous for his mouth she doesn’t stop kissing him until she runs out of breath and has to yank her lips away to gasp for air. She can’t believe she’s kissing this man, and with so much passion; it’s all so unlikely, all so strange, even though it doesn’t feel anything other than good and right and natural, like they’re meant to be doing exactly this, like his body and face and lips and tongue belong to her. 

When he slides a hand down over her ass and presses his fingers up between her legs, with just the right amount of force to send a shockwave of pleasure through her nether regions, she chokes out a sigh. “Stop, oh god we have to stop,” she says, burying her face in his neck, breathing him in. He smells _good_. 

Breath ragged in her ear, he says, “I know.” It takes about thirty seconds to extract themselves from each other, because it’s difficult to stop kissing and touching him, difficult to lose the warmth of his arms around her, to step back from him, to miss the way his body feels against hers.

“We need—”

“We need a plan.”

There’s one formulating in her head right now. “Take Carlos and leave,” she tells him. “And then come back on your own in twenty minutes.”

He’s nodding. “What you gonna tell ‘em?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your girls gonna wonder why I’m here.”

“Why are you here?”

The salaciousness of Rio’s grin actually makes Beth blush. 

“Oh Jesus.” Unbelievable. “I presume you did not tell Carlos the reason.” If he doesn’t answer this question correctly she might have to slap that smile off his face.

“Nah.” He gives her a slow, appreciative once-over. “He thinks we talking business.”

Business. That’ll do for an answer. “Doesn’t ask a lot of questions, I take it?”

Rio looks amused. “Nah.” Then he raises his eyebrows at her like there’s some point she’s supposed to understand. “Carlos don’t ask questions.” What’s he getting at? “Your girls...”

Ohhh. “Shit.” He’s right. She’s going to need a story. “I’ll think of something.”

“Cool. See you in twenty.”

She gives him a stern look. “Be discreet.”

He grins. “Always.”

She watches him leave, heart thumping, skin buzzing with excitement and anticipation. It’s vital she calms down before she heads back out there. The girls cannot suspect a thing if this is going to work. Breathe in, two three four, out, two three four. Come on, Beth, you can do this. You’re the best liar you know.

Slipping into the ensuite she dabs a little powder on her cheeks to tone down the flush and re-applies her lipstick over lips still tingling and swollen. Tidies her hair with her hands. That’s better. She looks more or less respectable again. Her pupils are still dilated but they’ll go back to normal soon and Annie and Ruby won’t notice anyway.

The boys are gone by the time she re-emerges in the kitchen.

“What was that all about?” Ruby asks.

“Just a little business proposition,” she says, collecting all the empty glasses from the bench and stacking them in the dishwasher. “He’s got a small — but lucrative — job for us. I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now I have to go pick up the kids from school.”

“I thought it was Dean’s day,” Annie says.

“Yeah he just called,” Beth says. “He can’t make it.” If she’s going to sell this she needs to decorate her lie with a touch more outrage and sarcasm, the way she might if what she’s implying were actually true, so she shoots them a glare and deadpans, “Something came up.” 

Hook line and sinker. Of course they buy it; Beth is a superlative liar and not even her best friend and her sister can see through her bullshit, both shaking their head at Beth in sympathy — and contempt for Dean — completely oblivious to the fact that Beth is deceiving them for the sole purpose of getting laid.

God she’s a terrible person. For all his faults Dean doesn’t deserve to be characterized like this. 

“Typical,” Annie says in disgust. “He is the _worst_.”

“Come on, let’s hustle. I’m already late.” Beth grabs her coat and her bag but leaves her car keys on the hook in the kitchen. The quicker she can get rid of Ruby and Annie the more minutes she’ll have left to prepare for Rio’s return.

She waits until they’re both in their cars before she starts to root around in her bag. “Shit. I left the keys inside," she calls out with a wave. "I’ll catch you guys later!” Turning, she listens to the cars pulling away with satisfaction and heads back into the house.

Phew.

And now for the fastest grooming session in history. She practically runs back to the bedroom, yanks open the drawer containing her fanciest lingerie and rummages around until she finds her favorite set — a strapless black basque and matching panties, not enough time for stockings or garters — locates her long, black silk robe in the closet and takes it all into the ensuite, locking the door behind her in case Rio returns before she’s ready. She strips to nothing, gives her bush a quick trim, cleans her pits and between her legs with face wipes, applies deodorant, brushes her teeth, sprays herself with perfume, ruffles her hair a little to make it wilder, and then puts on the underwear.

Taking a few slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm her nerves, she studies her reflection. The black looks good against her skin. She definitely looks good, flushed and bright eyed, even if her boobs look ready to pop right out of the basque. Somehow she doesn’t think Rio will mind. 

She slips on the robe and opens the door, looping the tie at her waist as she enters the bedroom, but she doesn’t manage to tie the bow because he’s here, he’s already here. Standing just inside the bedroom door, mouth falling open when he catches sight of her. He pushes the door shut and advances on her, unbuttoning his shirt as he walks.

No point pretending this isn’t happening. She was the first to take off her clothes after all, so she can hardly object when he follows suit, and why would she? By the time his shirt’s on the floor, chest bared, he’s within touching distance, hungry eyes roving all over her body, lingering longest on her cleavage, and yeah she knows her breasts are impressive. They might cause crippling back pain on occasion but when it comes to sex they’ve never let her down. Instead of taking her in his arms, he hooks a finger into the loose tie around her waist and gives it a tug, pulling it free and opening her robe with a low groan of appreciation, his pleasure at being able to see her properly for the first time a reflection of her own at finally being able to get her hands on all that hot, smooth, tattooed skin. 

Rio doesn’t seem interested in taking things slow, his big, warm hands slipping under her robe, one sliding into the back of her panties so he can squeeze her bare ass, the other splayed flat on her back so he can hold her flush against him while he kisses her. 

It’s so intoxicating Beth thinks her legs might give way any minute. When he drops to his knees and buries his mouth in the crotch of her already drenched panties, inhaling audibly and moaning on the exhale, she clutches him by his shoulders to keep steady. But then he pulls the gusset aside, his tongue making contact with her most sensitive flesh, and it feels so incredible if one of his arms wasn’t wrapped vice-like around her ass she’d probably melt straight into the floor.

What a relief to discover Rio’s skill as a lover is on par with his confidence. Not remotely intimidated by the prospect of living up to the dream version of himself, the version Beth admitted had made her come, Rio’s experience, and enthusiasm for sex, is gloriously apparent; he knows exactly what he wants and exactly how to get there. Standing up, he pivots her ninety degrees and gives her a light shove, sending her flying onto the bed, flat on her back, and then he grabs her thighs and yanks her towards him until her ass is right at the edge. That’s when he peels off her panties and drops back onto his knees between her spread thighs, Beth bracing her feet on the bed’s edge. Thumb working her clit, he watches her, apparently waiting for her to start helplessly pumping her hips before diving back in. And there it is...his clever tongue urging her on until she’s fucking his mouth with abandon. Beth gapes down at him as he eats her out with greedy hunger, spurring him on with whimpered words of encouragement. _Yeah yeah yeah don’t stop keep going oh god keep going_. She’s gonna come. He hasn’t even taken his pants off yet and she’s already almost there— oh _god_ —

The pleasure convulsing through her in waves so powerful she can’t even see, or think, has her hollering so loud the neighbors will be wondering if she’s okay.

When her senses eventually return to her she props herself up on her elbows, ready to see what Rio is going to do next. Licking his lips, he removes his fingers from inside her and stands up, looking pleased with himself. “Something like that?” He sucks his fingers clean with filthy relish and she laughs. He was totally competing with Dream Rio.

“Pretty close,” she says. “Now take your pants off.”

With a wolfish smile he pops the button of his fly, but he’s taking his time, dragging fingers lightly across his belly, putting on a little strip tease, stoking the flames of her impatience. “How bad do you want my dick?” He slowly lowers his zipper. 

“I’m not sure I could make that any more obvious.”

He laughs, murmurs _true_ , and pushes his pants and underwear down just below his balls, just low enough to give her an unfettered view of his cock: big, hard and pointing right at her. He strokes himself, up and down, a private porn show all for Beth, and she raises her hips in invitation, spreads her thighs wider. 

Eyes flaring with lust, Rio doesn’t finish taking off his clothes, instead leaning over to give her a slow kiss on the mouth, holding himself aloft with a hand on the bed. His other hand is still on his cock and he’s guiding it towards her vagina. With his jaw clenched and eyes hooded, he slides his cockhead up and down her wet pussy, parting her labia with it and rubbing her clit until she’s gasping and moaning in desperate delight. God he’s good at this. Why did they wait so long?

When he plunges his cock inside her she wails with the pleasure of it, every inch of her body on fire, loving the way he feels, and that he couldn’t wait another second before taking her. After a minute or so in this position he pulls out, dick glistening with her juices, and it takes a moment for Beth to realize he’s kicking off his shoes, ridding himself of the rest of his clothes. “Take it off,” he says, nodding at her corset.

They experiment with an array of different positions: Rio on top, in control, tongue in her mouth as he plows his cock into her, slow and hard...

From behind, so he can hold her breasts while he fucks her…

Beth on top, her nipples grazing his chest as she moves... 

Every time Rio gets close to coming he stills, catches his breath, suggests a switch. The most problematic position is lying on their sides, Rio behind her holding her close, hips moving with increasing speed and force. With no pressure on her clit she’s in no danger of coming herself, but within thirty seconds Rio abruptly pulls out, panting hard. “Oh fuck that feels too good, I nearly came. Your _ass_...jesus.”

“You can come if you want,” she says, feeling magnanimous. She already had an orgasm after all and she really wants Rio to experience that same pleasure.

“No way,” he says. “Not done with you yet.”

The position with the most longevity is sitting up in each other’s arms, facing each other with her legs wrapped around him, making out while Beth rides his cock with languid ease. It’s probably more intimate than she should be allowing but it feels so incredible she thinks she could carry on like this all night. Until an orgasm sneaks up on her, and her panting becomes louder, more ragged, her moans more helpless. “I’m gonna come,” she tells him, voice high pitched and breathy. “Oh please—”

It’s the permission Rio needed to let himself relinquish control, thrusting harder and with more purpose, his own groans increasing in length and volume. The muscles in his face clenched tight, he chokes out a sigh and the sight of him succumbing to all that pleasure only intensifies Beth’s own eruption of bliss. 

He holds on tight as it subsides…as they catch their breath...skin slippery with sweat...air thick with the pungent aroma of sex...spent bodies marinating in the afterglow...

 

It’s over now. 

Beth banged her gangster business partner, even though she knew it was a stupid thing to do, because there really was no choice about it once the prospect became realistic. And it was the best sex of her life, so it’s not like she’s even capable of regretting it. 

Currently he’s spooning her and pressing kisses to the nape of her neck, fondling her breasts, murmuring into her ear. “Gimme a few minutes.”

“What for?” she asks, twisting towards him so she can look up into his eyes.

He smiles, kisses her, bites her bottom lip. “Imma fuck you again.”

“Oh.” She can work with that. “Okay.” She grins. 

“You.” Kiss. “Are.” Kiss. “Amazing.”

“You too.”

“I wanted to do that a long time.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm. Didn’t think you’d ever let me.”

Beth responds with a soft laugh, squirming against his body with contentment . “And then I told you about the dream.”

“Yeah. Damn, sweetheart. I came so hard that night thinkin’ about you. Couldn’t believe you told me.” Reliving the memory is getting him worked up again; he’s starting to move his hips, grunting under his breath, cock hardening against her thigh. 

“Oh wow,” Beth says, tipping her head back, baring her throat in invitation. “I guess we’re doing this again.”

“You better fuckin believe it.”

She turns the rest of the way around to face him properly and crawls into his arms. 

Who knows what the future holds. 

Who cares, when the present is this sweet.


End file.
